


Nov. 24th 2039

by EmberSkye



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Family, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Happy, Holidays, How Do I Tag, Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving Dinner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 01:02:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16713553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmberSkye/pseuds/EmberSkye
Summary: A cute, short Thanksgiving fic because I couldn't help myself.





	Nov. 24th 2039

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote something normal. Honestly, my excuse was the opportunity to write happy Hank.

November 24, 2039. Otherwise known as Connor's first  _ actual _ Thanksgiving. Sure, he had technically been around for the last one, but with the revolution and all the political talk, the holiday had been a little bit overshadowed.

For some reason, Hank was determined to celebrate with Connor this year. He even scheduled a few days off work so he could work on the cooking. Connor kept insisting he couldn't eat, which Hank knew (“I'm not a fuckin’ idiot, Con.”), but he still wanted to.

“It's the thought that counts,” Hank kept saying when Connor insisted he didn't have to go through all the trouble. “Plus, I like Thanksgiving. I'm not goin’ to fucking skip it.”

So they cook, and they prepare, and set the table around 4pm with the sounds of football on in the background. Connor's not entirely sure  _ what _ to do, considering he's never participated in a holiday, and cannot physically consume the food he had been helping create for the last day-and-a-half, but he tries his best.

He sits at the table, he waits for Hank to join him, and he pats Sumo on the head when the dog nudges him from under the table. He feels sort of awkward, surrounded by all the food. He doesn't know why they had made so much.

Turkey, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, beef and noodles, sweet potatoes, pies, etc etc. Too much for one person to eat.

Maybe Hank wanted the leftovers for some unknown reason? Connor knew it was a tradition in many families to overeat and then relax, but still, he didn't see the use in it. That was, until there was a knock on the door.

Before Connor could even get up, Hank is rushing from wherever he had been, and is answering the door. He greets an unseen person (people?), and moves aside to let them in. Connor expects one person, maybe a relative of some sort, but is greeted instead by Chris, his wife Emma, and a small boy who Connor knows is named Damian.

Then, because it doesn't stop there, Fowler's stepping in, followed by Ben, and finally, what appears to be, a disgruntled and shy Gavin. Gavin has he head down, like he's embarrassed. Connor tries not to enjoy the sight. This  _ is _ the man who has tormented him constantly in during the course of the past year. Connor almost feels he should have the right to enjoy Gavin's suffering for a moment. Even if that moment is fleeting.

What Connor doesn't understand however, is  _ why _ Gavin is here. It’s not unknown that Gavin and Connor hate each other. It's also not unknown that the two have shared several unfriendly alterations. Had Hank invited him? Or had he been dragged here by Ben and Chris when those two had been extended an invitation? Maybe it was Fowler?

I'm overthinking this, Connor tells himself. Maybe Hank was trying to make amends with Gavin? He  _ was _ always telling Connor to befriend people more his age. Maybe this was Hank's way of encouraging that?

“Hey Connor,” Chris calls, pulling Connor from his thoughts. He’s got a huge smile on his face and waves a hand toward his wife and the child in her arms. Damian, Connor understands, had just celebrated his first birthday. Connor remembers the celebration at work vividly. The night had begun with everyone cheering Chris and his son, and had ended with dragging a drunken Hank home after a little too much champagne. “This is my wife, Emma, and my son Damian. Emma, Damian, this is Connor.”

Chris gestures between his wife and Connor, so Connor stands to shake Emma’s hand. She smiles kindly at him and gives him her own small greeting. Damian, who’s still too young to have understood what his father said, leans toward Connor in curiosity. He’s staring at Connor’s LED, which had been circling yellow in confusion, but had since turned back to it’s normal cool blue. Emma laughs when she sees this, and jokingly goes to hand Damian to Connor. Connor, who panics, accepts and then stands frozen as Damian tries to climb up to Connor’s LED. Chris, who had also noticed this, joins in with his wife’s laughs, clapping a hand on Connor’s shoulder and saying, “you’re a natural, Connor!”

Hank notices this too, and can’t help but have the fleeting thought of him and Cole together like that years ago. The thought is only fleeting however. He’s here to celebrate with Connor and a few friends. Not be sad. He can be sad on any other day of the week.

Once the laughter had died down a bit, and everyone had found there seats, they dug in. Well, all accept Connor, who had a bit of thrirum for the occasion.

They talk about all manners of things. Favorite sports, office gossip, politics, the whole nine yards. Platters upon platters are passed around the table as they speak, but the movement slows down once everyone is finished. Surprisingly, the conversation is pleasant, despite difference between specific people. Hank and Fowler get set off on a short sports argument about who’s going to win what, but the evening is largely filled with laughter and happiness. Connor begins to see why Hank had wanted to celebrate with more people and suddenly understands—at least to some extent— the saying “the more the merrier.”

“—yeah, and so I’m standin’ there, with no clothes, in front of the goddamn  _ principle _ . Fuck was she mad. Wasn’t my fault though. Some of my buddies had nicked my clothes from the locker room stall. Took my towel too. I had no choice but to run for it!” Hank finishes off his story with a flourish of his hand, the combination of good food and alcohol making him act a bit more dramatic. Ben, Fowler, and Chris are in stitches around the table. They had been sharing embarrassing high school stories. Hank’s was the funniest by far. Connor suspected Hank had exaggerated some of the detail, but didn’t say anything for fear of ruining their fun. He enjoyed seeing Hank this happy. The android couldn’t recall a time he’d seen Hank smile so much.

“Um, Hank?” Connor’s not sure what makes him pipe up, but doesn’t hesitate when Hank turns to him. He had remembered a question he wanted to ask in relation to the research he’d done when preparing for Thanksgiving and intended to ask it. “Can I ask what you're grateful for? I noticed that was a traditional question asked, and well, thought I’d ask it.”

Hank seems taken aback by the question, but quickly recovers. A smile grows across his face and he laughs a little as he says, “oh, I don’t know, Connor. I’m grateful for Chicken Feed, booze, sleep.”

There’s a tone of obvious joking in Hank’s voice so Connor stammers out, “be serious!” He was genuinely interested in Hank’s response.

Hank seems to contemplate for a moment, then leans forward on the table. He shoots Connor a small smile, and then proceeds to address the entire table. A pink tinge rises to his cheeks, and Connor suspects that not all of his color comes from the alcohol.

“I’m grateful for my house, my food, my job. The typical things. I’m grateful for Sumo, and these assholes,” he gestures to Gavin, Fowler, Ben, and Chris. “I’m grateful for how open the world  _ can _ be, and the ability to learn,” he’s looking solely at Connor at this point and Connor is looking straight back. “And I’m grateful for  _ you _ , Connor. For your growth, for what you’ve taught me. For how far we’ve both come.”

Connor notices tears in Hank’s eyes. The lieutenant scrubs them away and tries to act like they had never been there in the first place. “Thanks for bein’ here for me, Con.” He says. “Don’t know what I’d do without’cha.”

They go around the table after that. Chris talks about how grateful he is for his family, his safety, his friends. Fowler says he’s grateful for Connor keeping Hank off of his ass. Ben says he’s grateful for each of their service to Detroit, and the opportunity to work alongside them. And finally Gavin, grudgingly, says he’s grateful for his friends, and the fact that they hadn’t fucking _ abandoned _ him (his words exactly) for the way he acts at the office. Connor’s honestly surprised by that. Gavin had been blushing when he said it, and probably knew he wouldn’t live it down, but seemed happy nonetheless.

Finally they table turned (quite literally as everyone had turned to him) back to Connor, who was expected to answer his own question. It takes Connor a moment to realize what it is he wants to say, but settles on it with the purist, most  _ human _ smile any of them had ever seen from him.

“I’m grateful for being  _ alive _ .”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
